


The Serpent, the Wizard, and the Cupboard Under the Stairs

by Awkwardwitch



Series: The Serpent, the Wizard, and the Cupboard Under the Stairs [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (sort of), Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Canonical Child Abuse, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Child Abandonment, Dark Magic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awkwardwitch/pseuds/Awkwardwitch
Summary: In 1981, Arthur Kirkland saw his young saviour off to his new home after the boy lost his parents on that tragic October night. After 10 years, he returns to re-introduce Harry to the Magical world, only to find that the Boy-Who-Lived has been horribly abused and neglected all these years. With Harry off facing his first year at Hogwarts backed by a 2000 year old semi-immortal eldritch personification, and Arthur KIrkland leading the investigation into what happened that faithful Samhain, will either Voldemort, or Dumbledore for a matter of fact, stand a chance?Cross posting on Fanfiction.net
Relationships: England (Hetalia) & Harry Potter
Series: The Serpent, the Wizard, and the Cupboard Under the Stairs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673686
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	The Serpent, the Wizard, and the Cupboard Under the Stairs

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not Harry Potter or Hetalia: Axis Powers.
> 
> Warning: Child Abandonment (sort of), the British, and Dark Magic.

October 31st, 1981

A man hid in the shadow of a tree, seamlessly blending into the environment. It was a skill that came in handy quite too often, and easy for him to utilize as he, quite literally, was one with his surroundings. He stood there waiting for his young saviour to arrive, for the part of him that was truly England, and not in any way Arthur, had whispered the transpiring of Voldemort’s downfall into his subconsciousness, and thus he found himself making his way to where he instinctively knew the boy would be taken.

Suddenly all the streetlights began to go out, one by one, each with a metallic click. Arthur swivelled his head towards the source of the sound, which happened to be the origin of the darkness that had just spread across the street. The spot was far too dark and distant for a human to make out anything, but luckily for Arthur, ‘human’ wasn’t exactly a word that could be used to describe him. He could see man and woman dressed in wixen robes and allowed himself to relax slightly when he recognized them as Minerva McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore. Despite the fact that Arthur could see the wixen moving their lips, he found himself disappointed that he could not make out their conversation and concluded that the two must have set up a silencing ward.

He turned his head at the sudden sound of an approaching motorcycle. Arthur looked down the street and was confused when he could not seem to spot the source of the noise, he turned back to the house only to be blinded by the headlight of a ...a flying motorcycle? Arthur blinked a few times and realized that yes, that was indeed a flying motorcycle heading towards the house he was standing by. He realized that he honestly should not have bothered expecting anything more subtle, considering the reputations his wizarding community had of being the exact opposite of that. However, Arthur had at least hoped maybe, just maybe, in the midst of a war, they could have tried a bit harder to be conspicuous. 

The vehicle landed right in front of number 4, Privet Drive, and from it disembarked a man who stood far taller than any human being could hope to achieve, easily over twice the height of Arthur himself. He wore a dark moleskin coat and had an enormous shaggy mane of dark brown hair. In his arms, he carried what at first glance looked to be a bundle of cloth, but Arthur quickly realized that this bundle was, in fact, the boy he was waiting for, Harry Potter, his young saviour.

Arthur quickly retreated further back into the shadow of the tree. He watched the giant man hand the boy to Dumbledore after giving the lad a, quite frankly, disgustingly sloppy kiss that made Arthur cringe inwards. He continued to stand there, silent and waiting until all of the wixen had left. With the last distinct CRACK! of apparition, the man swiftly made his way over to where the boy was left (quite irresponsible really) swathed in a blanket on the doorstep of his new home.  
Kneeling down beside Harry, Arthur smiled sadly at the baby that had lost his whole world in one night, a world which he would probably never retain any memory of. The man brushed aside the babe’s dark curly hair and kissed his forehead goodbye.

That was when Arthur felt it. A dark energy oozing out of the baby from the car left his forehead. An energy that no human senses could have detected. An energy that Arthur was only so familiar with after working with it for centuries. Dark Magic.

Arthur pulled back and frowned. He knew from his millennia of observation that Dark magic was not suitable for children, especially not babies; it simply reacted badly with the natural purity they were born with. He could remember the heartbreaking memory of his little Alfred on the first Samhain they had spent together in the New World frantically pushing him away after he had conjured a flame in the fireplace, yelling something about spirits saying that he was no longer hidden from their eyes, and that “daddy’s magic is corrupted, It’ll hurt the land!” 

It made his heart ache thinking about it.

Arthur brushed his thumb over the boy’s scar and pressed down lightly. He knew that the only way to dispel magic this dark was to use magic even darker, so, praying that it wouldn’t hurt the boy, Arthur began to speak in a language lost to time, asking repayment of ancient favours to ancients gods, and promising the sacrifice of a hearty boar (he’d have to stop at the butcher’s tomorrow). The lightning-shaped scar which jaggedly crisscrossed across the boy’s forehead and over his right eyebrow began to softly glow an eerie purple-white, then it flashed brightly, leaving the spots in Arthur’s vision and disappearing as suddenly as it came. He brushed his thumb lightly over the boy’s scar again and found the source of the darkness gone, but Arthur could tell that unfortunately there would remain a lingering effect on the boy’s magic, as permanent as the scar on his face. “Perhaps,” Arthur thought optimistically, “It’ll simply cause the boy to lean slightly toward darker magics in the future.” He then grimaced at his own forced naivety. 

Tucking the boy back into the blankets, Arthur walked far away enough from the house not to be heard by its inhabitants, and disapparated with a CRACK!

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> Howdy y’all, I promised the guys on ff a new Pottertalia fic with SingleDad!Arthur to make up for abandoning the other one, and I am now delivering that promise. I decided I should cross-post on Ao3 because why not. I’ll probably try to update at least once a month during the school year and twice a month during the summer holidays. You’ll be seeing plenty of nations making cameos but I’m going to let you guys vote in the comments on whether or not Harry finds out about the personifications’ true nature.
> 
> The Author’s Note will generally be at the bottom of the chapter but I will put disclaimers and warnings at the beginning of the chapter. 
> 
> Hope to see y’all again soon. <3


End file.
